Let Go
by Indigo Tantarian
Summary: 60 years after Speechless, Chell wants to return to Aperture one last time. Wheatley, Craig, and Rick aren't happy about it, but they won't deny her one last request. GLaDOS is waiting. WARNING: Character death and dying. (Go read Speechless first.)


** Let Go**

Chell had kept as active as she could, and had tried to hide how increasingly hard it was to get out of bed every day. She knew Craig, at least, noticed, but once she'd had time to stretch, she was pretty much all right. It just took longer and longer to reach that point. Then one day she found herself unable to even roll over to the edge of the bed.

She didn't want to call for help. She never called for help, even now that she could vocalize her needs. Even when she'd been caught in a rockslide. All three of the robots had been angry with her about that. But she wasn't injured now. Her joints just hurt SO MUCH, and she couldn't muster up the strength to push through it today. With an exasperated sigh, she lay back again. Her eyes began to drift shut against her will.

Her hair had grown white over the years, and her skin thin and papery. She wasn't sure how old she was, or how many of those years really counted. But she'd lost that youthful spring in her step and boundless strength that had kept her alive in Aperture, all those years ago.

The androids had noticed as well, and quietly helped out more. …Well, NOT so quietly, in Wheatley's case. Rick was forever smacking his head and telling him to shut up.

She wasn't the only one succumbing to age, though, and they all noticed that as well.

Wheatley's short-term memory was slowly deteriorating. He remembered the past just fine, but when it came to five minutes ago, or yesterday, or last week, or sometimes even last month, his mind was often a blank. As long as someone could remind him, he was usually all right, though Chell could see how much it frightened him.

Craig had always been the most noticeably corrupt, and as time went on his facts became less accurate. He began reciting quick lists of erroneous information with alarming frequency. Sometimes a nudge or a hard shake would snap him out of it, but sometimes it just threw him into a panic as words continued to spew from his mouth. He tried not speaking at all, but he couldn't seem to help it. They found that he could often redirect the impulse if he found something to read aloud, and began stockpiling books, magazines, and anything else printed. If he was calm, he could still usually communicate as coherently as ever. It was a constant struggle, however.

Rick's problems had set in suddenly. Of the three, he could pass for a normal person the best, so he occasionally made the trip to town on his own. Once he was two days late coming back, and the others had started towards the road to search for him. He wasn't far, but he was moving slowly, kicking around in front of him and testing the ground before he set each foot down. His hair and clothes were disheveled, and at first he refused to explain himself, and almost punched Wheatley. He was twitching and sparking badly. Finally, though, he admitted that he could barely see a thing and he'd just been walking along and thought some horrible catastrophe was happening before he'd realized. He thought he'd be okay as long as he could stick to the road, but he admitted he'd had no idea what he could do when it came time to go through the woods.

"Core corruption may come in many forms, including physical or mental impairments…" Craig said. "If a core is over 12 12 12 12 12 12…" He twitched and took a shaky breath to try to cool his processor. "…Over… 80% corrupt... it may be deemed apple, orange, pear, papaya, NNNNGGAH! It MAY be deemed unable to perform its focus. Function."

"I… I ain't that corrupt!" Rick's voice rose in panic. "I NEVER been that corrupt! It's just… It'll get fixed! Nanobots, right? We all got 'em!"

"…Nanobots do not repair corrugation. Corruption."

Rick's head swung around at the dark shapes that were all that remained of his friends. "That ain't… I'm an Adventure Sphere! I gotta… If I can't…" He trailed off and sparked. "What the hell am I supposed to do if I can't… go adventurin'?"

A synthetic hand came to rest on his back, and he flinched a little in surprise.

"The Adventure Sphere will continue his functions."

Fact's voice was calm and clear, and his hand stayed there as they returned to the little stone house. He was rarely far away, and he helped guide Rick's steps and hands. And when he got caught in his facts, Rick pushed him, or found him something to read, or just held on. At first Rick was terribly embarrassed, and didn't want to even get up, much less leave the house. But being an Adventure Core, he quickly grew restless, and they resumed a fairly normal routine. Often when they went out to collect supplies, Wheatley came with them. He functioned well, but he tended to forget where he was going, or how to get back, or what he had come for. Chell had always gone with them in the beginning, but after she saw that they were getting along fine, she let them go on their own sometimes.

And that never failed to make her smile. Because she was becoming increasingly aware that, corruption or not, Aperture technologies were built to last. And humans were not.

When Chell woke again, it was to the sound of Wheatley in mid-ramble.

"…And I'll bet we'll get more apples this year, I remember there were only a few last year, I DO remember that, and very little and tough they all were, but now the tree's bigger, I'll bet the apples will be, too!" He glanced down and grinned. "Oh! Waking up finally, I see? It's mid-day, did you know? Noon, I would imagine! Aren't you going to get out of bed?"

She smiled at him and tried to roll again. She managed to move this time, perhaps motivated by his presence, but hissed sharply in pain when her knee bent.

Wheatley's face clouded. "Is something wrong? Were you… oh, god, were you resting from something and I… I interrupted you? Did you get hurt? Are you okay?"

She raise her hand a little to stop him. "Fine, Wheatley," she sighed. "Just… tired." Her voice, once she had found it, had never been strong. In recent years, though, it had grown strained and reedy.

"Are… you sure? I mean, it's… it's lunch time, isn't it? At this time of day? You never… stay in bed until lunch time."

"I'll get up in a minute…" She trailed off and her eyes began to close again.

Wheatley frowned, looking back through his fragmented databases. She didn't sound fine. That wasn't how healthy humans were supposed to act. He backed quietly out of the room and went to find Craig and Rick.

"She comin'?" Rick asked, hearing only one set of footsteps approaching.

"Who, Chell? Ah…" Wheatley looked around. "…Oh. I guess… I thought I'd…" He stopped. "Maybe she'll just be a minute?"

"Was she sleepin'?"

"Um." Wheatley frowned, then brightened. "It's too late in the day for her to be asleep, mate! Of course she wasn't sleeping."

Rick's head turned towards Craig, and they went to Chell's bedroom. Craig knocked softly at the door before they entered.

"Hey gorgeous, ya doin' okay in here?"

Chell's eyes opened, and her head turned stiffly to look at them. "Just… tired today," she rasped, and coughed softly.

"Ya want anythin' to eat? We cooked up the rest 'a that rabbit from yesterday, looks pretty good."

She shook her head slowly.

Craig was watching her closely. "Stiff muscles can only be alleviated through millipedes… momentum… MOVEMENT," he reminded her.

She sighed and gave a short nod. After a moment she turned on her side to try to get up again, but let out a small cry of pain as her knees moved. The two androids quickly came to her, and Wheatley followed.

"…Joints may become solemn… swollen, and painful, if they are not erased." Craig sighed in exasperation. "EXERCISED."

Chell sucked in a slow breath, her eyes closed. "…I can't," she whispered, almost too soft to hear. "Just… wait a while."

But waiting didn't help, and after a while Craig offered to help. He had to be very careful, but he managed to massage her knees to the point that she could bend them. Putting any weight on them was out of the question, though.

"Oh, it IS raining outside," Wheatley pointed out helpfully. "I remember, that makes old humans hurt. I know that."

"Wheatley, shut yer mouth," Rick growled. "She ain't old."

"I am," Chell sighed. "…Thank you. But I think I'll just… rest today."

"…Okay… Ya want that rabbit? Or anythin'?"

"No. Thank you."

The androids looked at each other worriedly as her eyes closed again.

Over the next week, Chell was only able to get up on her own once. The three robots helped her with anything she needed, and tried to get her to eat and drink, but she didn't have much appetite and rarely ate more than a few bites every day.

"The human body requires 7.4 kilograms of kerosene every day in order to run each program at high velocity." Craig twitched and frowned.

"Ya gotta eat, darlin'," Rick added. "What sounds good? We'll getcha anythin' ya want."

"Don't worry. I'm not hungry."

"How about an apple, luv? Just one? Remember, the apples?"

She shook her head a fraction.

Chell lost weight quickly, and her hair grew patchy. The androids kept trying to feed her, and keep her comfortable, but they were running out of options.

"…Is she going to die?" Wheatley asked the others softly one night when they came out of her room.

The other two stopped and turned to him. None of them spoke for a while.

"She… she ain't…" Rick began, but Craig squeezed his shoulder.

"An elderly human who no longer takes in sssssluicing… staples… sustenance… and lacks the strength to manage… move… cannot survive for l-long." He twitched.

"Well… can't we do anything?"

"We're doin' all we can," Rick snapped shortly. "If… if we could do anythin' else… we'd be doin' it now."

"But… if she's just staying in there… she can't get better, right? We don't have an intubation associate. When she wakes up, we just have to get her to come out and eat!"

Rick sighed in annoyance. "Wheatley, we been tryin' to do that fer AGES."

Wheatley cringed. "Sorry."

Craig shook his head. "The height of an evergreen tree is directly proportional to the width of its trunk at the base. Hot water freezes faster than cold water. Cold water becomes plasma at 4900 Kelvins. The yellow-crested swallowtail is the most fearsome species of hyena. Tin foil is put under intense pressure to make stainless steel, but only if it can be kept from crumbling…"

Rick shook Craig's shoulder to no effect, and frowned. "Go find a book or somethin', Wheatley."

Wheatley ran off to look, and Rick slung an arm around the ranting Fact android. "Take it easy, pal."

Fact spoke for hours, almost managing to pull himself out by reading numerous times before a word would set him off again. At last, though, he read five pages of _Jane Eyre_ and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Chell likes that one," Rick said quietly. "Ya should read to her when she wakes up. Maybe make her feel better, anyway."

"C-corruption at 97%," Craig muttered, his eyes still on the page.

"I know."

After a few more days of being cajoled and forced to eat the softest food the androids could make, Chell began to have trouble breathing. They propped her up with extra pillows, blankets, and clothes to make it easier for her. She didn't speak much, but then, she never had.

Finally, one day her eyes fluttered open and she looked up with clouded eyes. The three androids looked down at her anxiously as she took a slow breath.

"I… won't last… much… longer," she wheezed.

"Wh – No," Wheatley said, his voice trembling. "You just… you're feeling a bit under the weather now, and you really should take care of yourself better, but you'll… you'll pull through this."

"…The lifespan of a human female does not often exceed thirty seven… five thousand… nine nine nine nine nine nine nine…" Craig twitched.

"Exactly!" Wheatley said quickly. "Nine nine nine… and all that. We don't know. So she isn't… dying." The last word barely came out.

Chell reached out a shaky, skeletal hand towards Craig, who was the closest. He gently took the fragile, skeletal hand in his, and looked down at her.

"The mayfly hovers above the strongest currents in a river," he said softly. "This keeps it safe from its only natural predator, the Tasmanian tiger." He twitched and grimaced.

She smiled and curled her fingers around his. "I like… hearing… your facts. You… always knew… so many things. You are… a good person. …Whose insights… are… relevant." Her eyes glittered with some of their old spark.

Craig bit his lip and squeezed her hand very gently. "Chell…" he began, then stepped back, unwilling to continue.

Chell's hand dropped, but she grasped around until she brushed Rick's leg. He stepped closer and took her hand. "Take it easy there, lovely lady."

She smiled fondly. "You'll… take care of… the others. You… always do. I could… always… count on you."

Rick reddened a bit as his processor whirred. "…Ya know, last I saw, ya were still the most gorgeous thing around." His free hand ran up her thin arm to touch her gaunt cheek briefly. A ghost of his cocky smirk flitted across his face. "I never could resist yer pretty face."

Chell laughed and coughed weakly. Wheatley worriedly hovered with a cup of water, and nudged Rick back in his hurry to give it to her. After he'd helped her drink a little and her breathing had quieted, she looked up at him with a warm smile.

"You were… my first… friend. No matter… what happened. You were always… a friend, to me." She coughed again and had to just breathe for a moment. Wheatley picked up her hand in both of his, quaking. "I always… loved hearing… your voice. And you're… not a moron. Never."

A smile trembled its way onto Wheatley's face. "I… Well, you – Chell, you're the best. Just… positively incredible, really. Honestly. I don't know what else to say." He laughed shakily.

"I've been… so lucky… to spend my life… with… all of you."

"Life is given worth by the one in possession, a-and others they value," Craig said, very slowly.

"We're lucky," Wheatley added. "Don't know what we would've done without you. Been crushed. Or tested over and over until we couldn't be reassembled anymore. Or, you know, spun around in space forever."

Chell coughed again, weakly, and struggled for breath. "When… I die…"

"…I know what to do," Rick said heavily. "I… I'll take care 'a it. Don't ya worry. I c'n…"

Chell was shaking her head, and Craig silently pulled on the other android's arm.

"I want… to go back. There."

The androids stilled.

"Um… Now when you say… 'back there,' it… I mean, that could be anywhere. What do you mean? Because… if I'm honest… well, the only place I can think of back there is… well… BACK THERE. You know…" Wheatley trailed off uncomfortably.

"…Fact: Aperture Science originally marketed shower curtains to turrets, who were embarrassed by the sight of other turrets bathing…"

They stared at her.

"Please. I have to… go back. There." She drew a shuddering breath and closed her eyes. "…To her," she mumbled. "GLaDOS. Again."

The androids uneasily waited a few more seconds for her to fall into an exhausted sleep, then stepped out into the living room.

"We… we can't…" Wheatley paused, rubbing his fingers together. "I don't… what was it? I just know we can't do that. Whatever… that… is."

"Fact: Defying… a dying wish may result in brushfire, pox, fistulous withers, mitochondria, blood poisoning, cobwebs, incandescent lighting, indecent thoughts… or death," Craig said uneasily, and twitched.

Wheatley stared at him. "Was that… Which part of that was real? Was it death? It was death, wasn't it? It's always the last one. But… back THERE!? To… to Her? I mean… I know she's got that drawing on the house… And She did… treat us all pretty well there, in the end, I guess we owe Her a lot, really, but… Well, I mean…"

"…She an' our Chell… they're almost like friends," Rick said slowly. "Like if they weren't tryin' to kill each other, they'd… nah, they wouldn't be friends if they weren't at each other's throats. 'S like they're close CAUSE they… tried to kill each other." He trailed off, frowning.

Wheatley stared at him. "You've been hanging around Fact too long, mate. Gone off your rocker there."

Craig cleared his throat angrily. "The Fact Sphere is ALWAYS the Fact Sphere is always the Fact Sphere is…"

"Shut up. Both 'a ya. Listen, she… said she wanted that. An' I say we do it, cause it's Chell, an' that's a lady who knows what she wants."

Fact nodded. "The concept of a reward in the afterlife hinges upon good behavior and the following of a supreme being's laws. Heaven is sometimes described as simply close proximity to the deity."

"…That actually ain't far from it, the way I see," Rick said. "I mean, She's… pretty much the supreme being in there. Ya gonna help out with this, Wheatley? One last thing we c'n help her with?"

Wheatley looked from one to the other, and shook his head. "You're both completely out of your heads. I can't believe we're doing this."

"What a person desires shapes the way they ride a bicycle." Craig shook his head and hissed to himself.

"Got the first part right. It's what she wants. That's… all that matters." Rick's sightless green eyes stared vaguely in Wheatley's direction. "You in?"

"I… Well if – If YOU two insist on… just…" Wheatley sighed in defeat. "Fine. But ONLY because she wants to."

"That's the only reason WE'D do it. Right?" Rick looked towards Fact.

"The common leafhopper possesses the ability to shapeshift into a giant slug," Craig muttered, and twitched.

Rick squeezed his arm. "Right."

They took turns sitting with her that night. Around 3:30 am, Wheatley suddenly noticed that her shallow, uneven breathing had stopped. He cried out sharply, and the others rushed in. Craig checked her pulse and looked down at her for a moment, then nodded slowly and turned to them.

"She's gone," Wheatley mumbled with a shiver.

"True," Craig said quietly.

They all just stood there for a moment. Rick's hand tightened on Craig's arm.

"Should we… do something?" Wheatley finally asked. "…Say something?"

"There is a finite quantity of original thoughts in the world. It is limited to 49,582,401 ideas. All thoughts are now reincarnated on a minute-by-minute basis. When one grows stale, it is moved to the bottom of the supply."

"…I think we said it already," Rick muttered.

"But I… shouldn't we…"

"Hell, Wheatley, say whatever ya want, but I don't wanna hear it!" Rick exploded. "Can't ya just take a hint from her an' keep yer mouth shut once in a while?"

Craig put a hand on the base of Rick's neck and pulled him out of the room, glancing back at Wheatley and nodding to the small form on the bed.

"He's just ALWAYS… God, I can't fuckin' TAKE it sometimes! I swear I wanna PUNCH that guy! Like anybody wants to hear him go on an' on, all night!"

"Grieving can be expressed… through the looking glass… through a glass darkly… through a pinhole camera…" Craig snorted in frustration. "The beluga whale is best known for its caviar. Any odd number above 582 may be asked to leave a building under fire code regulations. Ice cream was invented in 1947 by a team of scientists in a top-secret facility in Antarctica. Before that, they had to survive on sno-cones…"

"Hey, c'mon, ya can't go off like that NOW!"

"Th-the number of times a person blows their nose in a day is indicative of the number of dreams they will have that night," Craig said, hunching his shoulders miserably. "…The waltz is the preferred method of communication at… at a funeral. Standardized tests were banned from schools in 2108. Moleskin is not made from the skin of moles and, in fact, is not organic. Medical test subjects are often compensated with room and board for longer studies. The physiological response to grief is much like that to an allergic reaction to a bee sting."

Rick sighed deeply, pulling Craig down on the sagging couch next to him. "I know," he muttered through the other robot's continued facts. "Don't mean I wanna listen to all his shit."

"Thhhhh… Sssss… Nnnngh… Tapeworms are… physically incapable… of producing the silent 'e'."

"Nah, I don't mind you. Just don't wanna hear him moan all night, ya know?"

"Oranges are actually a deep violet, in the wild."

Rick fumbled around for a book, and squeezed Craig's shoulder hard as the other android tried to channel his speech.

Wheatley trudged out of Chell's room hours later, and by that time Craig had escaped the storm of misinformation.

"Feelin' better?" Rick growled.

Wheatley shook his head morosely. "No. No, I… I can't really say I do." He gulped. "She's really… Did you know she's… I think… she's actually…"

"We are aware," Craig said softly, his voice raw.

"…Well we'd better get goin' soon. Is it light out yet?"

They made a hammock out of blankets, and carried Chell between two of them, switching off now and then. Craig muttered facts under his breath, now and then Wheatley shared an observation, and Rick alternately reminded him what was happening and told him to shut up, but for the most part they moved quietly. The wheat hissed and rustled around them.

When they reached the little shed, it was just as they had left it that night years ago. The little camera still hung under the eaves. The door was open, and the elevator waited. They paused.

"I know she said she wanted to come back here," Wheatley whispered, his eyes darting around, "but… are you sure this is a good idea, mate?"

"Too late to back out now," Rick sighed. "Prob'ly the last time we'll ever be on the surface."

Craig and Wheatley looked back out at the world.

"We fought so hard to get here," Wheatley said quietly. "I remember that."

"The likelihood of escaping a second time is -49.62%"

They stood still for a long moment. Then Craig took a hesitant step forward, and the others followed him to the elevator.

Aperture appeared eerily unchanged as they descended slowly. The turrets were still singing, but the tempo had slowed to a mournful pace. Their words were largely the same, though Craig detected a line or two different than before. The three edged closer, keeping Chell's body between them.

At last the elevator stopped and opened, and they slowly stepped out into the central chamber, the turrets' voices still sounding faintly from above. The Central Core hung there, Her yellow optic shining brightly.

"Bring her," She commanded.

Wheatley and Craig held up their ends of the blanket, and Rick hovered nearby. They brought her forward, and gently lay her down right in front of the Central Core. The blanket slipped to the ground. Chell was wearing a clean pair of clothes, simple and comfortable, the way she liked to dress. Her hair had been brushed, but it had been mussed by the movement of the blanket.

"Leave," She said sharply.

The androids backed away.

"…We aren't just… going to LEAVE her there, are we…?" Wheatley hissed.

"She wanted to be here," GLaDOS snapped, rearing up. "Her dying request. Now go."

The three cringed.

"…How'd ya know about that?" Rick asked suddenly.

"Please, you really thought I'd throw all of you out into the world and NOT be watching? You've all been my eyes. …Well, not the Adventure Core. He can't even be his OWN eyes. How worthless. Get out."

Craig squeezed Rick's arm hard. "The… melting point of a bull elephant…" he tried to say, sparking and twitching.

"I don't want to listen to your corruption. Blue! Orange! Get them out of here."

The two testing robots appeared and moved towards them.

"Hang on, mates! It's us, you remember! Still got your paper clips? Eh?" Wheatley grinned frantically.

Atlas blipped. P-body gurgled. They pushed the androids back to the elevator, and the doors closed. It descended into the depths.

When they were gone, GLaDOS lowered Her core down close to Chell. The panel she rested on rose and shifted a bit so the yellow optic could look closely. For a long time She didn't speak.

"…Was it worth it?" She finally said, her voice soft and distant.

She would have said yes. She would have glared at Her for even asking the question.

The large, rectangular core tilted down to touch the still form.

Then it rose up again, and the floor panels shifted. An apparatus much like a relaxation pod rose up, and the top opened with a soft hiss.

Claws reached out from below the chassis, and hesitated. Then, with the greatest care, they gathered up the blanket above Chell's head and below her feet, and gently placed her on the bed. The yellow optic just looked at her for a moment, then the claws tucked the blanket up around her. The lid of the pod closed again.

"There," GLaDOS said softly. "As much fun as it is to test abilities, behavior, and psychology, I've been thinking a lot about… biology lately. You know, the makeup of the body. DNA. Life."

She left the pod where it was, directly below the chassis, and lifted Herself up close to the ceiling where Her private monitor showed the feed that flowed from each android and the Companion Cube, through the Space Core satellite, back to Her. The Adventure Core's had been dark for years now, though she still received audio content. Not that she had any desire to listen to that.

The little wooden deer still stood on the monitor. The wreath of wheat had fallen apart long ago, and Her last organic crow had eaten it. She had nearly killed him for that. But their lifespans were so short, even compared to humans…

Not far below, in the same relaxation chamber where the last human test subject had briefly been held all those years ago, the three androids awaited their fate.

"We're going to die," Wheatley moaned. "All of us. That's it. This is the end. We had a good run, but now it's over, and we're all going to die."

"All Aperture Science Artificial P-personality Clam… Creation… CONSTRUCTS were set to… testing…" Craig glanced at the door nervously.

"…I can't run those tests," Rick said flatly. "Fuck, I'll walk right into a pit 'a acid. YOU'LL be fine, ya c'n test an' talk all day. But me…"

Fact's hold on Rick's arm would have damaged a human's limb. "The Adventure Sphere… will NOT… f-fall."

"I… I might… I mean, I didn't ACTUALLY do so bad last time, right? Pretty good, actually. If I'm honest." Wheatley asked desperately. "I could maybe… test…"

"Sure, til ya ferget where ya are," Rick mumbled bitterly. Wheatley whimpered. "This's Android Hell, right here."

The clock on the wall said that nine hours had passed when a soft click signaled the speaker coming on.

"As you may imagine, I have no use for corrupted cores in my facility," Her voice sounded throughout the room. All three flinched. "Please exit the relaxation chamber immediately."

They paused.

"…What if… we don't?" Rick asked, glaring to hide the slight tremor in his voice.

An electrical volt ran through the room. All three androids shrieked and fell limp.

"I don't know HOW she put up with this kind of nonsense, I really don't…"

The first thing Rick noticed upon waking was the harsh artificial light. The pale gray panels. The other two androids sitting up next to him.

He let out a whoop of sheer delight and grabbed them both.

"Whoa there, mate, easy! We're both here, don't worry!" Wheatley said with a little laugh. "Still here, still… well, still in the facility, but all in all, could be worse…"

"I SEE ya, you dummy!" Rick crowed, slapping his back.

"Eighty percent of human vision problems are preventable or curable," Craig offered. "Ninety-nine point nine percent of mechanical vision problems can be repaired." He paused, lowering his eyelids for a second, then grinned incredulously at Rick and Wheatley. "No core corruption detected!"

"Wha – Wow! Me either!" Wheatley exclaimed. "Unbelievable! What happened? Did She…"

They all froze and looked around.

"I'm going to give you three options to choose from," the Central Core's voice echoed through the little room they were in. "And I urge you to consider EACH of them. Number one: You can join the other personality cores in testing. Their results have been highly informative. Number two: The incinerator. Where you belong."

The three looked at each other miserably.

"Number Three… The data I collected from you in the past about the current state of the outside world was highly inconclusive. Shamefully so, in fact. I'm going to require more in-depth research into modern society, the environment, and these… creatures that now roam the Earth."

"…Why do you need US for that?" Wheatley breathed.

Craig groaned loudly, and Rick smacked the back of Wheatley's head and muttered, "Shut up!"

"…I don't NEED you," Her voice responded sharply. "Let's be perfectly clear: I have other methods of gathering data from the outside. However, if any of you feel you could FUNCTION in human society, which I HIGHLY doubt, it would add a certain depth to the research. You have SOME rudimentary experience with humans, enough to interact with them on a superficial level. Although admittedly you lack the ability to truly integrate into their society. Not that I really want you HERE…"

The speaker crackled softly, and blue and green and spotty pink eyes flitted to each other.

"…You cared for her. And you brought her back."

The volume was low, but the androids all heard.

There was another moment of silence. Then Craig made a small throat-clearing sound.

"The third option is acceptable to us."

"I certainly don't NEED all of you. If any of you would prefer testing… or the incinerator…"

"No!" Wheatley quickly said. "Nope, this… this sounds good. The best option, really. Option three. Lucky… three."

"We'll take it," added Rick.

"I thought you might." The wall panels fell around them to reveal the Central Core's chamber. The yellow optic gazed down at them. "The nanobots should keep you running. If you become corrupted to the point that you can no longer collect data, you'll have to drag yourselves back here to be repaired. I won't waste time and resources sending someone out to find you. Now get going."

They didn't need to be told twice. The three scrambled to the elevator. As they rose past the huge room full of singing turrets, they caught a glimpse of a relaxation pod in the center, surrounded by wheat sheaves.

"I… I really loved her, you know," Wheatley said sadly.

"We all did," Rick muttered gruffly.

Craig nodded slowly. "Studies have shown three types of love: Erotic, friendship, and unconditional."

"Wish she coulda got some 'a the first," Rick muttered.

Craig turned a glare on him.

"Come on, mate, that's… a little uncalled for. Under the circumstances. I mean, she's… You can't REALLY be… saying you wanted to… you know… with her when she's… dead and all."

"I didn't mean ME!" Rick said hotly. "Just… hope she wasn't too lonely all that time. Ya know, with just us around. Humans need shit like that. More'n just somebody to sit an' talk to sometimes. Seemed kinda like if we hadn't always been around, she mighta found somebody to… ya know… scratch the itch a little."

"Wha – Don't say it like that!" Wheatley cried as they reached the top and the elevator doors opened.

"Sorry, that's what it is."

Wheatley shivered. "She never said anything about it," he muttered.

"Well she wouldn't would she? What'd be the point?"

"Ninety-nine percent of humans desire intercourse with others," Craig observed.

"That's all I'm sayin'. At least she wasn't lonely, though."

Craig shook his head. "She valued every aspect of her life."

They stepped out into the wheat field once again.

"Do we… Should we go back home, do you think?" Wheatley asked.

"…We oughta lock up the place fer good," Rick said. "Keep out the creeps walkin' around."

"Fact: The house contains many things that could be of use to us and others. To waste resources would be irrational."

They walked through the expansive wheat field one last time, away from Chell, away from Aperture. It would be nearly a hundred years before they returned. Again and again. And each time, the turrets were singing, Chell lay in the relaxation pod, science was being done around them, and GLaDOS was watching, always watching over them all.


End file.
